


Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, First Kiss, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Requited Love, Slash, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-02
Updated: 2008-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is having issues. Jensen's hotness is the reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jensen Ackles is, in a word, beautiful. I have no problem admitting this. It's the God’s honest truth. Everyone knows it too. It’s why fan girls can’t get enough. Hell, it’s why fan guys can’t get enough. I used to think Prince was pretty (okay, he still is) but Jen, my Jen, is in a class all his own. Which explains why we’re at a local Vancouver bar getting our Cuervo shots and beer chasers paid for by his new-found friend Ted. Ted is no flamer. He looks like a lumberjack and sounds like a guy who should’ve owned a saloon in the 1800’s. And he is kind. He even invites me into their conversation from time to time to show he’s not just here for Jen. And Jen is laughing and talking like he can’t see that Ted would love to eat him up. Literally. Finally, after an hour of this display I figure it’s time to assert myself. I mean Jen clearly can’t say no and the guy’s winding up to one big move that I’m sure Jen wouldn't be pleased about.

“Well, Ted,” I say as graciously as I can without giving my annoyance away, “it’s been fun but Jen and I got an early call tomorrow so we better go.” There’s no mistaking the possessive nature of my tone. Or the hand I lay on Jen’s right hip where Ted can see.

“Yah, sure, no harm, no foul. It was nice talking to you, eh?” He smiles a smile that looks kinda sincere but I steel myself against it.

“Sure. Night, Ted.”

I herd a confused Jen out the door before he can get the chance to shake Ted’s mitt of a hand. I can feel his body resisting slightly but he lets me keep pushing the small of his back with my fingertips. As soon as we’re in the parking lot he stops dead in his tracks and turns to face me.

“What the hell was that, Jared?” The fact that he uses my full name is a clue that he’s pissed.

“He was totally hitting on you, dude!” I reply in justification.

“So?” he asks, exasperated.

“But…He was about to make a move!”

“Your point being?” He stares into my eyes, bewilderment and anger warring for dominance in his expression.

“I was trying to help!” I truly was. Or at least I thought I was.

“With what? I was having a nice conversation with a nice guy.”

“Who was licking his chops waiting for you to go home with him.”

“‘Licking his chops’?” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, obviously praying for patience, then looks at me again. “Jay, men hit on me all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“But he-.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “But nothing. It happens. And I don't care. Neither should you. Lately you’ve been acting like every man I talk to who isn’t you is about to kidnap and have their wicked way with me.”

“How do you know he wasn’t about to do just that?”

“Fuck, Jay!” he roars. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you rescuing me every time a guy flirts with me!”

Okay, so I have been doing that lately. Staking my claim, so to speak. Every time we go out and a man moves in on his space. It makes them leave him alone. You'd think he’d be more appreciative.

“But what if-?”

“Jay!” He grunts in frustration, his hands balling into fists in a rare show of temper. “Stop treating me like I’m your girlfriend or something!” With that said he walks away.

And I’m speechless. What? It happens...

The next day on set Jen, who reminds me as soon as we greet each other that he is indeed a man, decides to get even by flirting with every guy working. Luckily they all laugh it off, but I’m steaming. How dare the bastard! I want to bash his head in and get on my knees groveling for forgiveness and pretend I’m not bothered all at the same time. Instead I barely talk to him, throwing our chemistry off in the process. Kripke isn’t happy in the least. And I’m...I don’t know what I am. Jen and I have only ever had one real fight and that was back in our first season. To have him mad at me feels scary weird. I keep texting him to say ‘hi’ or ‘wass up?’ but when he looks at me it’s only to shake his head in a ‘now is not the time’ gesture. I know, I know. It’s really not. We’re working, and it’s my fault the scenes keep getting messed up, and if I could just be professional things would get better. But I’m not. Instead I’m uncertain and hurt. The worst of it is that I don’t understand where I went wrong…

“Jay,” Jen calls out. It’s late, we’re about to be driven home after a long day and I’m tired as hell.

“Yeah?” I don’t look him in the eye. Figure it’ll make things easier.

“Jay?” He tilts my chin up to see my eyes. “What’s up with you these days? You’ve been acting weird.”

I twist my head until his hand drops from my chin but the warmth of his touch lingers. “Nothing.” We both know I’m lying. Ironic, huh? My job is all about lying, yet in my personal life I can’t lie for shit.

“You do realize I’ll keep asking in the car, even into your house, until you tell me what bug crawled up your ass right?”

Yeah, I do. I realize Jen, when he’s stuck on something, is as tenacious as a pit bull…

“Our house.” It slips out on a breath before I can pull it back.

“What?”

“It’s our house now,” I tell him and turn away when the driver comes up behind us.


	2. Chapter 2

“‘Our house? Ours??’” Jensen's confused. The one and only time he had someone refer to a place he was living in as 'ours' was when Joanna was eyeing up engagement rings and introducing him as her soon to be fiancé. But that was a lifetime ago, and I know it.

We get in to the van and sit in silence for the whole 20 minutes it takes to get home. Jensen doesn’t even look at me and I can’t tell if it's because he’s still angry or if he’s sure he’ll worm something out of me with tequila. Either way I’m glad for the quiet. It gives me time to think. Not that I need it. Because all I do is think about him. Even in the van I steal glimpses of his profile. When we pass through well-lit areas I can tell he’s clenching his jaw tight enough to be sore tomorrow. I want to tell him to stop, as if I’m his mother. He wouldn’t appreciate that either though.

See, this jealousy didn’t start until he moved in. Temporarily. That was the plan. But I love having him there. The house feels like a home now. He moved some furniture around, bought a plant that lasted a week until Harley ate it and got sick, put a bed and a desk in his room and took me shopping for a dish set that didn’t have flowers or pink designs on it. Now I can’t imagine the place without him in it. I’m not sure what that says about us as _dude-that-fart-was-rank-I-love-boobies_ kinda guys. What it means that I have the craziest need to hold his hand in mine, to feel him warm and solid against me. I don’t say anything until we’re inside and Ollie’s pulling back out of the driveway.

“Sweet dreams,” I whisper, staring at his chin. The ‘I don’t know who I am anymore’ lay between the two words but he’s so busy being confused that he doesn’t hear it.

I take the stairs three at a time and close the door of the bathroom in record time. I breathe deep as my first acting coach taught me. Attempt to visualize where the scene wants to take me. Only this is real life, and I never was very good at that exercise. Not enough patience. Story of my life. Yet I really did try with Sandy. I did. She just wasn’t what I wanted anymore. Not that I know what I want. I couldn’t even blame her when she screamed that it was my fault. I mean how was I supposed to tell her I get more jealous of the guys that talk to Jen than of all the people that ever flirted with her? Yeah, that would’ve gone over well. ‘Sorry, San, you just don’t get it?’ Talk about cruel. Especially since I don’t even get it. So I gave her the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. She saw through it. Asked if we had a chance. Turns out not answering was answering. After that she started crying and walked away.

By the way, not being able to lie really sucks.

Jen’s been great with the breakup. Getting me drunk. Playing Guitar Hero until the wee hours on those nights I don’t want to be alone. Taking the dogs for a walk on the rare mornings I feel like sleeping in. Making me flirt with other girls. Okay, so the last thing isn’t so great. While I flirt for fun he starts talking to some random person, usually a man, and once they find common ground in the conversation it’s off to the races. Somehow when he’s had a few he’s loose and easy and more open, and I get jealous all over again. Pull Jen away from his newest admirer again. Get yelled at. Again. Obviously things aren’t working out so well for me at the moment. The show’s never been better, my family’s good, my acting’s coming along. And I’m so damn scared and confused I don’t know what to do…

“Jay?” It’s been months since we’ve both had a weekend off and we’re taking advantage. It’s early Saturday afternoon and we’re lounging in sweatpants and t-shirts, eating the last of breakfast while Jen watches The Barefoot Contessa on the Food Network channel.

“Hm?” I have no idea what she’s making but I can’t wait to see what it’ll look like once it’s done. I admit I’m an end-product type of guy. She’s folding egg batter into some breakfast pastry dish and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t look good enough to eat as is.

“You think maybe we need some time apart?”

“Sure,” I say. I swear he learned that unfair trick from Sandy. Asking girlfriend-ish questions while I’m thinking about food.

“‘Cause I was wondering if that’s what the problem is, if that’s why you’re being so weird. Maybe we’re seeing too much of each other. It’s like rock bands that break up after their first hit. After a while they start to hate each other, you know?”

“Uh huh…” I nod then pause. I rewind back to the original question. “Wait…what?” I look over at him.

“It _is_ possible for two people to be too close, Jay. I think that’s our problem. We’re two single young guys who act like an old married couple. And it’s gotten worse since I moved in. So I was thinking I should look for a place of my own. Then we can get back on track.” He’s serious. Utterly serious. And convinced. His hair’s spiked from pillow creases and his glasses sit crooked on his face. He looks adorable, which is definitely something I shouldn’t be noticing.

“I-.”

“We’ll still see each other at work right? I mean it’s not like we’re breaking up or anything. You’re still my best friend. You just won’t be my room-mate anymore.” When Jen smiles I catalogue it. Every time. This is smile #52. The ‘it’s all gonna be alright, I’ll fix it’ smile. Jen has never seen that movie with Meg Ryan and Andy Garcia. It’s too chick-flicky for him. But I know exactly what Andy means. I also know that I never catalogued Sandy’s smiles. And that says it all right there.


	3. Chapter 3

“You can’t move out!” I blurt.

“Oh, I can’t?” Jensen asks in an amused tone.  
 

“No, you can’t!” I’m standing now. And yelling. Not a good combination when dealing with Jensen but I can’t help it. I thought the day I broke up with Sandy was the worst day of my life. I was wrong.  
 

“Jay, what the fuck?!” Jensen stands to face me.  
 

“You can’t go! Please!”  
 

The look Jensen gives me at this point is not one I’ve seen before. It’s one of disbelief, fear, anxiety and hope all rolled into one wide-eyed, open-mouthed dumb ass expression. He’s a total dork, my Jen. And so damn beautiful I can’t stop myself from doing it. Didn’t even know I wanted to. It starts as a light peck on the lips, which I’ve done before. What? I’m very affectionate. But at first he just stands there, frozen in place. Then his hands slide up between us to land on my chest and yeah, his lips are soft, plump, smooth. Feeling like heaven. I should’ve known. Only he’s not pulling me closer like I think. He’s pushing me away. I don’t realize it until he’s already shoved me back with a roar.

“Dude!” he shouts, “you just kissed me!” He rubs his mouth with his shirt, erasing any trace of me.  
 

Now I’m the one with the dumb ass look. I’m pretty sure he’s not aww-ing on the inside over me, though. In fact I think he might punch me if I don’t run far, far away. The worst part about it is, now that I’ve done it, everything else makes sense. The jealousy. Breaking up with Sandy. Missing him whenever we don’t see each other during breaks. The little electric zap I got the first time we shook hands. The warmth in my stomach when he looks at me...  
 

“Well, shit!”  
 

So I do the one thing I want to do least. I run. I mean it’s my house and all but I have to get away. Jensen is everywhere in that place, and at the moment he doesn’t seem to want me around. So instead of falling at his feet to worship as many of his body parts as I can I make a mad dash for the front door before he knows to stop me, kick me, banish me permanently from his life. I don’t have any idea where to go. I just run. Well, run and cry. Because now I can’t deny that I am hopelessly in love with my best friend, that I probably always have been, and he does not feel the same way.  
 

I end up in some out-of-the-way bar. Drinking. A lot. Lucky for me, or unlucky as the case may be, we’ve been to this particular bar before and Roz, the bartender, calls Jensen as soon as she hands me my fifth Cuervo shot. I don’t hear the conversation, don’t even know it’s taking place. But the Cuervo burns going down. That’s all that matters to me. And I’m doing fine. Really. After an hour I can’t even tell time is passing. Of course, I can barely keep my head up anymore but that’s neither here nor there. Jen always makes fun of my drinking habits. He says I don’t know how to pace myself in order to hold my liquor. Not like I get drunk often though...  
 

“Shoulda known you’d be here,” a voice grumbles to my left. A body sits heavily on the stool beside me. “Of all the bars in Vancouver this is the one I didn’t think to check...”

I don’t speak even when my alcohol-induced haze recognizes his voice.

“Roz, can we get some coffee over here when you get a chance?”

A minute later a steaming mug is placed in front of me. I fight not to sob into it.  
 

“Jay,” he sighs. “Come on, drink up so I can take you home.”

“No.” If I say anything else it’ll definitely sound as drunk as I feel.

“Why not?” He’s exasperated. Obviously. I don’t know why. Don’t care. I’d rather wallow in my own misery.

“’Cauusse you’ll fe dere.” In my head the way I talk is fine. And Jensen’s too much of a gentleman to say anything. 

“You’re the one who asked me to move in, you know. It wasn’t my idea. So it’s your...Look, I’ll leave you alone, okay? Just let me get you home and you can go hide in your bedroom and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

At this point my head droops more. I can’t think of any other reasons to stay. I can’t think period. I don’t protest when he forces me to down the coffee before dragging me off my stool and reaching into my front jeans pocket for my wallet. If I wasn’t so far gone I’d find a little enjoyment in his hand being inches away from my crotch. As it is I can’t walk by myself. Jensen puts an arm around my waist and steers me out the door, waving at Roz on the way. Luckily for both of us I don’t puke in his car but I feel better hanging my head out the window like I was one of my dogs. The wind slaps at my face, serving as a wake-up call. I sober up quickly and am able to get myself out of the car without falling onto the ground. But the question still remains. What do I do now? Now that I’ve kissed him? Now that I’ve realized that I want to do it again? Now that he wishes it’d never happened? Yeah, being sober is not all it’s cracked up to be sometimes.

Once inside I reach out a hand in hopes that he’ll take it. Or at least talk to me. “Jen?” 

“Go to bed, Jay. Okay? Just...” he sighs wearily, “...just go to bed and I’ll see you in the morning.” 

I watch his back for a long moment, afraid of how much I’ve messed up everything between us. He won’t turn around. Won’t look me in the eye. Just stands there with his shoulders hunched, breathing, giving me his back. I ask myself if it’s possible to save this, us, or if it’s too late. Because I wear my heart on my sleeve, and he knows it. And I don't think he’ll be able to handle seeing it every day, knowing what I want from him and unable to reciprocate. Actually, lying, sobriety and unrequited love all suck. Up the ass. Even with the aid of a pogo stick. And a banana peel. Just so you know.


	4. Chapter 4

The circus has come to town apparently. With elephants. Lots of elephants. And bears. And lions. All roaring. Well, the elephants might be doing something else since I don't think what they do is considered roaring. But whatever they're doing is equally as loud. And wet. One of the lions licked me. I think. Although I never knew they were that tame or whatever...

"Off, Harley," commands a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jensen. Like my Jensen. Like.....well, shit...

"Oh Jesus," I groan right as Harley decides to leave with a parting, particularly wet, kiss to my open mouth. "Ugh."

"Yeah, being kissed by someone when you least expect it can leave that kind of impression." It's a dry remark. Not mean, not angry, not anything but resolved. The question my still-toxic brain is trying to wrap itself around is what is he resolved about?

"Coffee." If I'm to get through this morning without puking or passing out black coffee is a must.

A mug is placed into my hands before I can blink. I take a cautious sip, then gulp after finding out that it's just the right temperature. I sigh, attempt to look up at Jen, to see what's going on behind his eyes, but the effort to move any body part not holding the coffee proves to be too much.

"Don't go yet. Please." It's all I can do now. Plead. Hope he does what I ask until I'm at least as sober as the conversation we need to have requires.

"Should leave you to drown in the toilet or let you fall over while pissing..." I hear him take a deep breath. "...I'm not gonna leave, Jay..."

He doesn't sound happy about it at all and I have no idea what that says. Does he hate me now? Are we no longer friends? Is he quitting the show? God, all the thinking, the worrying, makes me feel even worse than the alcohol still in my system. Because I can't help wondering just how badly I've blown it. How close I am to losing him permanently. Which is the one thing I really can't handle. He may be here now but an hour from now, a day, he could be gone and I wouldn't blame him. I screwed up big time.

"Just drink the coffee, okay?" He walks out of my bedroom without looking back while I fight not to cry.

"Okay," I whisper too softly for him to hear. "Okay."

Twenty minutes later, after I've downed the coffee and taken a steaming hot shower I throw on some jeans and a hoodie and go looking for Jensen. He's in the kitchen making breakfast. Bacon, eggs over-easy, buttered toast, and pancakes. My hero. And he's making enough for both of us. Moments like this are so clear now. Moments where I can see how thoroughly I've fallen for him, how what I've felt for others, for Sandy, can never compare. I take a deep breath, plaster a bright, fake smile on my face, and stride in as if all is actually right with the world.

"You better eat up. You'll need some sustenance." As soon as he says it the fake smile thins into a grimace.

"Jen-." I start only to get interrupted.

"What were you thinking, Jay? Kissing me? Did it really seem like a good idea? Because I gotta tell you it wasn't. We're friends. That's all. At least I thought that was all. For you. Now I'm not so sure I know anything anymore..." During his little speech he didn't look me in the eye, just kept his eyes on the island where he was mixing more pancake batter. He finally stops and faces me. "Was it one of those things where you just didn't think?"

If he was angry I could deal with it, could tell him to hit me and we'd get over it. What he is is nervous and disappointed. I am not equipped for this reaction. However, I decide to be honest, tell him how I feel. It can't be worse than what's happening here.

"Kinda," I begin, gathering my thoughts. I stare at him, letting myself get lost in his emerald gaze. "I mean I hadn't thought about kissing you before last night but I think I've been wanting to. I mean I think I've been wanting you, you know? And I couldn't accept it. But then you were looking at me and you were standing so close and I was so scared I was gonna lose you that I just went for it. And I wish I could say I was sorry, Jen, 'cause you don't feel the same way, but I'm not sorry. 'Cause that kiss was...It was beautiful and perfect and.....Anyway, if you wanna move out now I won't try to stop you. I won't stand in your way. I mean I just...I get that you're not in love with me and that's okay. Well, it's not okay but...You're my best friend, Jen, and I'd rather have that than nothing so it's cool."

And then, like a wimp, I run back upstairs to the bathroom and barf until my sides ache and my heart threatens to break out of the confines of my chest. Once I'm done I slide into a sitting position beside the toilet. If there are tears in my eyes it's only from being sick. Really.


	5. Chapter 5

So here I am, sitting by the porcelain alter I've just heaved a humongous offering into, shivering and crying, snot dripping into my mouth, when Jen comes in. At least I assume it's him. There's no licking or whining so it can't be the dogs. Soon a damp, cool wash cloth wipes across my face. How can he be so damn nice? Doesn't he realize he's making it worse? I cry more now. Can't help it. I don't know if I'll be able to stop wanting him and his sweetness isn't helping matters any.

"My dad always says 'When you assume you make an ass out of you and me'. That's what you're doing, Jay. Assuming. You're telling me all the time that I think too much. But you're worse than I am. I'm not gonna leave you high and dry. Not gonna walk away or beat you up or anything like that. You're still my best friend. That hasn't changed, has it?" He tries to get me to look at him but my chin feels like it weighs a ton. "Has it?" I inhale unsteadily. "Come 'ere."

This is the part where I should be happy, where I should jump for joy. Because Jen takes me into his arms and holds me tight against him. He's warm, solid, smelling like soap and aftershave and Jen. But he's not mine, and I want him to be. I want it so bad it literally hurts.

"You take me by complete surprise and expect me not to react? That's not fair, Jay. I got spooked and I'm sorry, but I'm here. You know? I'm still here when most guys woulda run away or kicked your ass already. Doesn't that count for something? 'Cause it should. You're gettin' snot all over my shirt and I'm still holding on to you. So don't you run away either, okay?"

"Bud you don'd lub me!" I wail. And, yeah, it's totally dramatic and nasally as hell.

"Of course I love you! You're Jay! How could I not?" I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut, curling into him when I'm supposed to be pushing away. "...Jay," he sighs, "...of all the people in my life you're the one person I'd do anything for. Anything. Do you know what that means?" he asks quietly into my bangs. The heat of his mouth dusts my forehead, sending more shivers through me. "Do you know why I pushed you away after that kiss? 'Cause I liked it, Jay. It felt good...You felt good."

I peek up at him from my awkward position. "..." I clear my throat to try again. "Really?" My voice is hoarse from the crying and the barfing but I have to ask.

"Really," he nods, his two-day stubble scratching my forehead. "And I've been thinking we could try it again. You know. If you don't mind."

I sit up and look at Jen, really look this time. That hopeful expression is back in his eyes, along with a tenderness and desire I've never noticed before. I grin, realizing it's all for me. My heart skips a beat just for a second. When I lean in he raises a hand to halt the movement.

"You gotta brush your teeth first, dude. Your breath could melt a cinder block right about now." He's smiling, though, which is definitely a good sign.

I stand in a hurry, brush my teeth and tongue, then grab him up off the floor and plant a searing kiss on him. When I let go my eyes are closed and my fingers are tracing where his lips just were. When I finally look at Jen he's staring at me, weaving a little. There's a goofy grin attached to his face and he's almost glowing.

He responds only with a breathless," Whoa..."

"Yeah," I say, equally breathless. "I know what you mean."

I lean in again and he doesn't stop me this time. Just meets me halfway and closes his eyes as our lips press together. After a few still minutes his mouth opens. I follow suit and slide my tongue out slowly, seeking his. When he groans and touches mine with his own I lean heavily into him. If anyone asks my knees most definitely did not get weak. Well, maybe a little.

Hey, wouldn't yours?


End file.
